White Silence
by Kyla of the Desert
Summary: It was a request from the Führer King. An order. And he was a dog, now, and that was what he did. He received commands, he would listen, and he would wear the uniform proudly, even if they couldn't find one that fit and couldn't find shoes to come with it, and even if it smelled like goddamn war… FMA War AU, T for angst and language.


**Chapter 1**

_It was a request from the Führer King. An order. _

And he was a dog, now, and that was what he did. He received commands, he would listen, and he would wear the uniform proudly, even if they couldn't find one that fit and couldn't find shoes to come with it, and even if it smelled like goddamn _war_…

Ed continued to stare at the uniform draped over the desk in Mustang's office, outstretched his hand slightly forward as if to take it and put it on, but he was frozen, lost in the black hole of his own thoughts. His usually shining eyes were blurred and hazy and his breathing was erratic and heavy. He could not, there was no way, no way at all. He kept staring and staring, the blue of the uniform blurring with the gray of the walls and his head becoming lighter and lighter, fuzzier and fuzzier, swaying from left to right. Blue lightning danced in his head and the soft glow of the lanterns became overcome by a swirl of purple darkness.

Al.

_Alphonse._

_He had to save his little brother._

_He reached forward and stretched his fingers out, straining to reach, trying to scream but the words not forming._

_His leg hurt, it hurt so badly, but he thrust the pain out of his mind and focused on his brother. _

_Someone said his name, but it didn't sound like Alphonse… Who was-_

_He felt something grab his hand and screamed._

"-metal! Fullmetal! Edward!"

Golden eyes were suddenly focused, and Ed looked around and up at the Colonel. The only sound in the room was the soft tinkering of his trembling automail arm.

"Colonel…"

The tall man ran a hand through his short, ebony hair. He reached out to the uniform, eyes lidded with false exasperation to cover the worry he was feeling for the boy. "We found your size, though it was a struggle," the man said quietly, his usually booming voice flowing distantly across the room.

Ed's lost eyes ghosted over Mustang's chest, slowly blurring up again before he forced himself to look down at his scuffed boots to refocus them.

The blonde boy looked up to see a smile on Mustangs face. His golden eyes suddenly flaming and sharp, he snatched the uniform away from the older man. The stiff fabric chafed against the skin of his flesh hand, but he still gripped it harshly as he turned. The smile Roy was putting on was lost, and he opened his mouth to speak, but the boy was already on the path away from his office.

Edward's feet carried him down the wide hall while he listened to his own footsteps echo along the deserted walls. As he walked, the uniform slowly weighed him down until he reached the door of his dorm and could go no further.

Somehow, he managed to gather up the strength to stride into the room and throw the stale uniform into the open closet before roughly clapping his hands and slamming them down on the floor, sealing the door shut.

The alchemist shed his clothes down to his tank top and took the state alchemist pocketwatch out of his pocket before peeling off his leather pants and throwing them in his suitcase with his other deserted clothes.

The room was stuffy with silence, but his ears whined from the sharp heat of anger flowing within him. Automail gripped the pocket-watch, and the small but screeching sound of metal on metal was made in return, interrupting the crying silence. He tossed the unused clock on his bedside dresser with vehemence. Ed crawled into his bed and positioned himself so that he was facing the sealed closet door, and he stared daggers at it in the darkness.

Each time his eyelids began to fall, they shot back open at the thought of the uniform collaring him to the military more than the pocketwatch already did, and the thought of truly becoming a mindless dog, following every command he was given blindly, scared him to no ends. His freedom was going to be stripped from him in one fell swoop, all because of this. That uniform, stiff and new, sealed in the thick darkness of the closet, signifying the war started and the war to come.

And that pocketwatch, the heavy sealed metal, bound him to this place like a ball and chain.

Ed was wrenched out of his thoughts when he heard the clanging of metal accompanied by the door of his dorm opening, and he remembered that Al had left to go to the library a couple hours ago. Ed quickly closed his eyes and let himself go lax in order to feign sleep.

The troubled alchemist, slowly but surely, fell asleep to the sound of his brother turning the soft pages of some worn old book.

* * *

><p><em>Edward awoke with the anger still fluttering within him.<em>

The room was silent, with a small note from Al adorning the table. As he stood, the note drifted to the ground. Ignoring it, Ed unsealed his closet and yanked the cursed military _costume_ out of the closet, pulling the sleeves over his arms. The uniform fit perfectly and he felt fear and sadness crashing down through his stomach. He forgot what he was doing for just a split second before hot fire reared again in his heart and he roughly pulled on the rest of the ensemble.

He still had an hour before roll, and standing in these horrid clothes, and cheeks blazing rose, he didn't know how he'd survive the mortification. His feet were comfortable in the familiar boots, and he felt like he had at least one tie to himself, to who he really was under the embarrassing clothes.

* * *

><p>"<em>This is what you wanted, isn't it?"<em>

Roy glanced up in alarm, his deep thought and concentration being broken and his arm flinching, causing papers to be shoved from his desk to the floor. As the last one fell, his eyebrows furrowed in concern at the sight of the boy in uniform.

"What was that, Fullmetal?"

"I asked if this was what you fucking wanted."

The colonel's eyes were suddenly mirroring the flames of anger clouding Ed's golden orbs. "What? What I wanted?! What the hell are you talking about, Edward?!"

"You gave me the uniform, you gave me the paperwork, you practically control me. I'm your dog now. _Arf_."

Mustang stood, palms flat on the polished wood, his white gloves glowing in the sea of off-white papers around him. "Your anger is misdirected, Fullmetal. Yell at me all you want, but it's the Führer you should blame. I don't want this anymore than you do."

"You sure don't look like it!" Edward yelled, outraged at the other's relaxed demeanor. "You're calm! _Calm!"_

"What the he-"

"We're going into fucking war, and you tell me that it was a struggle to find my size! And you _smiled._" The words left the blonde's tongue in a bitter hiss.

"I was trying to tell you that it'd be alright-"

"Alright my ass!" Edward grabbed the taller man's collar and pulled, staring into his obsidian eyes. "I told you I wouldn't kill_, _and here you are, sending me out to _slaughter people._"

"Me?" The look of anger on Mustang's face was slowly replaced with a look of worry and sadness. "I didn't start this war, Edward. I didn't ask to send _thirteen year old boys_ into war. If it was up to me, you'd have a choice. You wouldn't have to do this."

"Some show, Mustang," Edward spat, letting go of Mustang's collar with disgust. "Throwing your fake pity shit in my face. Really." He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth against the blurriness building in the corners of his vision. The blood rushing to his head sent pulses from the back of his eyes to the tops of his ears, and he closed his eyes briefly before opening them.

"Edward," the colonel spoke quietly but firmly, his voice grounding the blonde. "Hell if I would do something as cruel as lying to your face. As faking pity. I know what war is, and I was young. Not as young as you, yes, but I was scared shitless. I _know_ what you're walking into Edward, and I want to be there for you." The man sighed. "This is slaughter, endless slaughter you are going to see, and I'm going to see _again._"

Ed flinched when he glimpsed the look of undiluted pain on the older man's face. "Fuck, Mustang, I'm-"

"And don't you dare apologize, Fullmetal," Mustang muttered. "Take that anger with you- it'll keep you warm in the tents." Edward's watery, golden eyes widened and he watched as the man gathered a few of the papers that had fallen on the ground. He placed them on the desk with careful precision before turning to walk past Edward. The smell of Mustang's worn but clean uniform contrasted greatly with the alien smell of the fabric of Edward's, and the proximity made that difference known.

"Line-up's in five, Fullmetal."

* * *

><p>Line-up was nothing but a grouping of stiff and new uniforms, not yet broken in, not yet exposed to the new world of pain and destruction.<p>

And, per Edward's request, Al was kept away, occupied and distracted by the rest of Mustang's team who were not present for the ceremony. The _ceremony._ Edward scoffed to himself.

General Grumman was calling the roll, Mustang off to his side. Raven eyes seemed to be diverting from the crowd's any chance they got, but Edward kept his golden eyes trained on the colonel. Each name called from the list was quick and sharp and met with an even faster reply. The Es soon arrived, and Edward's heart slowly swelled with the anxiety of anticipation.

"Edward Elric."

"Present."

He'd kept his face straight. He hadn't stuttered. He replied in the same sharp tone as every soldier before him. He hadn't missed a beat. And he hadn't missed the way the colonel flinched when the old general called his name.

Each name called after blurred into a mixture of mumbling and ringing, and he let the world around him fade. The hissing of his ears created a loud symphony inside of his head, until he conjured up the images he'd seen of war…

He imagined himself standing alone on that battlefield, the harsh and hot air of carnage surrounding him. Iron assaulting his nose and tongue, choking him. With that image came a jolt to his heart, and numbness ran through his body like a wave, staring at the sea of blue in front of him and not daring to look back at the ocean behind him.

That sea of blue suddenly shifted to a sea of brown, and red, and orange, the colors of the clothes his neighbors had once worn. There was a blonde woman in front of him, replacing the female soldier that once stood there. And when she turned around, he recognized Winry, staring back at him with the eyes of a killer.

And Al… he was there, too, right beside him, small with a round face. His golden-brown eyes as deserted as the land that took over the courtyard. The eyes of a killer stared at him from that once innocent face.

The image took over his vision, then, and there he was, standing alone, trapped in this barren land of blood. Gunshots rang sharp as the ringing in his ears, intensifying the pain behind his eyes. He closed his eyes quickly, trying to drown the image… and when he opened them, each killer, each person with those _goddamn eyes,_ was on the ground, one for each sharp crackle. The gunshots got louder, and louder, and louder, and louder, and louder….

And, suddenly, everything was silent.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Holy garbage, I've done it. And so has Orangeglazedlibras (Tumblr). This is a collab fic we've been working on and hopefully we'll get chapter 2 out soon. Feel free to drop by and tell me what you think-helpful writing advice is being begged for *gets down on knees* 'cause this is Orange's first time writing. And you know, you need le advice when you just start out. <em>**

**_So, tell us what you think! We'll try to update soon!_**


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